Carry On, Wayward Son
by intertwingular
Summary: One of these days, he'll get it right. One of these days, he won't be the screw-up son, the bastard child. But today isn't one of those days, and Percy Jackson just has to learn to carry on. Alternatively, in which Percy finds out he is a demigod, and nothing goes as planned. orphan!percy au
1. Chapter 1

**carry on, wayward son**

 **summary:** One of these days, he'll get it right. One of these days, he won't be the screw-up son, the bastard child. But today isn't one of those days, and Percy Jackson just has to learn to carry on. Alternatively, in which Percy finds out he is a demigod, and nothing goes as planned. orphan!percy au

* * *

 **author's notice: hey, ren again! so, as you guys who read my other stories can tell, i've done some major deleting. bruises is getting a revamp, and always and forever is moving at it's own plodding pace. i needed to start something new. this is that something new. hope you** **enjoy!**

 **today's bouquet goes to: my friend chisai on tumblr (good luck with elsword weeb queen)**

* * *

Percy was getting sick of orphanages. He was fifteen - almost sixteen years old, and you'd figure that they'd at least let him become an emancipated minor. No such luck, not for this orphan. He had always been a special case, from the circumstances of his birth, to how he had become an orphan.

Percy had been orphaned at 10, when his dead-beat step-father, Gabe got so drunk one night, he had snapped, going beyond what normal abuse Percy suffered day after day. The fatass had tried to kill the under-grown boy with the largest knife in the kitchen, and had almost succeeded, when his mother - gods, let her rest in peace - had come home late from her job. She'd come home to see her only son, scrunched up against the dingy apartment walls, her husband spitting profanities at him, knife dangerously close to the curved junction of Percy's bruised neck.

Sally Jackson had screamed so loudly, that the people in the apartment building across the street had heard her through the miraculously open window. But whoever had called the cops had called them too late. By the time the police had burst into the dilapidated apartment, Sally lay dead on the floor, blood leaking from her severed neck. They'd been too late to save his mother, but not too late to save Percy, who was sobbing next to his mom, desperately trying to warm her limp and cold hand. Gabe had snuck up behind the ten-year old, crimson dripping grotesquely off of the steel blade, intent on killing the boy as well.

Gabe Ugliano had been taken under arrest that night, and Percy Jackson, only son of Sally Jackson and a man long lost at sea, had been placed in an orphanage.

Of course, he didn't stay there for long.

Desperate for someone to tell him just when to stop, Percy lashed out at everyone, everything. No one got close to the boy, not without getting the proverbial door slammed shut in their face. Six months after the incident, a week before his birthday, Percy shoved what meager belongings he had into his ratty canvas backpack. He left in the dead of night, and ran away from the orphanage. Percy was caught two months later, trying to hitch a ride on a subway from Penn Station.

Over and over, the cycle went. Percy ran away. Percy caused problems. He never stayed in one place for too long, never lingered long enough to make any real connections. Fake a smile, then leave when no one was looking. Words the raven had come to live by.

Now, they weren't even letting him apply for legal emancipation. Percy had enough of orphanages, of kids that thought they had it bad, just because their parents had died when they were born, their parents had died in a car crash. _Bullshit,_ the teenager thought bitterly. _Bullshit._ This wasn't fucking _Annie_. Losing your parents to a normal death wasn't the _"hard knock life._ "

Had any of them been through the hell he'd been through? Been violated and touched in places adults weren't supposed to touch children? Had the air strangled out of them, and have to try to cover up the hand-shaped bruises, amongst the other wounds? Did those other kids have to watch the light fade from their mom's eyes, have to watch the only person in the world that still cared for them die, while they held their hand?

Percy leant against the brick wall of the latest orphanage dorm, burying his head in his knees. No, he bet that they hadn't. But he wouldn't have to stay for much longer in the new orphanage the government officials had stuck him in.

Tonight, Percy was getting out. Out of New York City, away from the comfort and the pain. Maybe he'd hitchhike to Maine. Maine was nice in the summer, and there was plenty of water. It didn't matter to him where he went - Percy Jackson just couldn't stay in New York City anymore.

A new beginning was in order. Time to follow the wind wherever it would take him.

* * *

His instincts had taken him to a random hill in Long Island, guarded by a gigantic pine tree, that seemed to tower over everything. Percy was sure that the only tree that he had seen that could possibly be bigger would be the Christmas Tree in Rockefeller Center. A twinge wormed its way through his heart.

 _No, don't think about her_ , Percy scolded himself, watching as the brewing storm grew denser. His unruly black hair whipped about, striking his cheeks, and covering his sea colored eyes.

"Well," he said to no one in particular - perhaps the hidden moon, "this was a nice afternoon, but I've got to get a move on. Maine's waiting for me."

He barely moved a step, before the ground trembled beneath him, knocking him backwards onto the wet grass. "What the-"

The scent of rotting meat, and smelly socks left out in the sun too long bombarded him, and Percy winced, eyes watering. What a smell!

However, that was the least of his worries.

Beneath him, the tremors increased, and as Percy scrambled to his feet, he came face to face with a sight he would not forget for years to come.

A gigantic, ten-foot tall figure loomed in front of him, its legs like a bull's, shaggy with pungent brown fur. The chest looked akin to a shirt stuffed with baseballs, and two horns broke the skin in the monster's broad forehead, illuminated a gleaming ivory in the lightning.

 _Run,_ all of Percy's street instincts screamed. _Run, this isn't an opponent you can beat!_

But deep inside him, a power long-dormant stirred. _The Minotaur,_ Percy begun to realize, the dawning horror contorting his face. _Gods,_ wasn't it supposed to be just a myth?

The monster lumbered forward, blindly sniffing the air for his prey's scent. With a jolt, gears began to churn in Percy's mind, stringing exhibited weaknesses together in a complicated web. The dumb bull couldn't actually see him! He might have a chance after all!

With a reckless scream, Percy ran forward, catching the Minotaur's attention. The beast snuffled again, before letting out a bellow, and charging to meet the sprinting teenager.

Rain tracked its way down Percy's cheeks, and soaked him to the bone, but he had never felt so alive. With a burst of inhumane strength, he springboarded onto the beast's hairy back, before clambering up the furry expanse. Realizing what was upon its head, the Minotaur thrashed and swiveled, trying to dislodge the pesky prey from its body. Percy, however, held on for dear life, his hands clasped tightly around one of the Minotaur's black and white horns.

With the next mighty buck, the bull-hybrid had him thrown against the large pine tree. Slumped against the rough bark, Percy groaned, blinking stars from his vision. "Fucking bull thing," he cursed, rubbing his aching head.

The _"stupid fucking bull-thing"_ lumbered forward, as if sensing that its prey was weakened. Percy took one look at the horn in his hand, the tip a deadly point, and then at the Minotaur's exposed chest. "Oh gods," he sighed. "Might as well try." With another screech, Percy hurtled forward, thrusting the horn into the Minotaur's chest. The bull's face was one of shock and pain. If Percy himself hadn't been in so much pain, he was sure he would have laughed. The monster disintegrated to golden dust before his eyes, scattering like papers in the wind.

The last thing Percy saw was golden-blonde hair, bright as the sun itself.

* * *

 **author's notice the second: not too shabby for a fight scene, i hope. i'm not very good at them...**

 **well, please review/follow/favorite this story! i'd love to see your opinions on this!**

 **ja ne,**

 **ren**


	2. Chapter 2

**a/n one: welcome to chapter two of carry on! i hope you guys enjoy!**

 **bouquets: none today, alas.**

* * *

Annabeth saw the boy first, climbing up the hill.

"Should we do something about the mortal climbing the hill, Chiron?" She turned to the centaur, who was looking over some papers.

He looked up. "No, Annabeth. Nothing seems to be going on - he'll be gone soon anyways." And he returned to the paperwork.

But, Annabeth was right. (when was she not?) During dinner, there was a low bellow from the hill, and rushing there, Annabeth saw the gods damn Minotaur, and that stupid mortal facing off with the bull-man, rain whipping up around them.

She turned to Kayla, her half-sister. "Kayla. Go alert Chiron. Counselors!" Annabeth yelled, "escort your cabin mates back into the cabin. Sentry, on guard." She turned back to the trembling girl. "Kayla, you have to go now. Please."

Kayla let out a small whimper of terror, and ran off to the Big House.

Her heartbeat erratic in her chest, Annabeth took off towards the Athena table, and began ushering her half siblings to the gray cabin, Malcolm beside her all the while. "Keep watch here, Mal. I'm going to Thalia's Pine, in order to try and see what in Hades is going on."

"Stay safe, Annabeth," Malcolm murmured into his younger half-sister's hair, as she sent him a tired half-grin, bags painfully obvious underneath her gray eyes. "Can't lose you too."

And Malcolm was right. The camp had lost Bianca Di Angelo, daughter of Hades, two years before, on the quest to free Artemis. Thalia had become Artemis' new lieutenant, and Nico Di Angelo had disappeared to the Underworld. Three pillars the camp had been leaning on, gone in the span of a mere week. It was a harsh blow to the demigods, and Annabeth knew that only she and Chiron remained as tu pillars of hope for the campers. If she died, well, Annabeth didn't want to think about that. Smiling tiredly back at Malcolm, Annabeth ran out the door, and into the rainy night.

So much for those campfire s'mores she wanted.

* * *

Percy woke up in an infirmary.

Well, something that looked like it. There were wooden pallets with off-white mattresses on them, and a cabinet with glass doors, stuffed with Ace wraps and pill bottles. On the chair next to his pallet, slept a girl, with golden-blonde hair, like the last flash of color he had seen after collapsing on the ground.

Percy paused. Wait, collapsing?

Looking down at his feet, Percy swore quietly, looking at the scrapes and cuts that littered his legs, and the tears on his beat-up Chuck Taylors. There was a stray fleck of dried blood on his left hand, and a forming scar on his right palm, from where he had gripped the Minotaur's horn, ripping it from the bull's head.

Where was the horn? Percy swiveled around in the mattress, his hands skittering about his sides, until the tinkling sound of crashing glass brought his attention to the night table, and the box atop it, a glass shattered on the floor, bits of ice and what looked to be apple juice pooling into the cracks of the wooden floors.

The girl's eyes shot open. In a flash, she seemingly drew a dagger out of thin air, brandishing it. Percy swore colorfully, tumbling off the bed, and onto his feet, instincts taking over.

"What the fuck? Watch where you point that thing!" He yelped, backing away from the blonde.

"Oh, it's just you. You're awake, huh?" She sheathed the dagger in a scabbard hooked on her belt.

"It looks like it. But who're you?" Percy eyed the girl warily, slowly reaching down for a glass shard on the floor. If anything, he could use it as a weapon if she ended up being hostile.

"You can put the glass shard down. I'm Annabeth."

He gripped the shard tighter, blood dripping onto the floor from where the jagged glass cut into his scarred palm.

Annabeth sighed. "What's your name?"

"Percy," the teen ground out, dropping the glass with a hiss of shock and pain as a tingling sensation erupted in his palm. The skin knitted over the laceration, the blood ceasing to flow. "What the fuck?"

Annabeth meandered her way over to Percy, gingerly gathering the glass bits. "Looks like the nectar in the glass got in your cut. It's healing it right now."

"Nectar?"

"The drink of the gods." She looked him up and down. Torn Chuck Taylors. A worn black hoodie, with beige cargo shorts. A runaway. "Obviously, you must be a demigod, or else you would have burst into flames and died."

Percy paused. "Wait, what? And if I wasn't a demigod? Would you be really willing to take that chance? What's a demigod?" He fired off, staring at Annabeth incredously.

Annabeth sighed. "Well, you wouldn't have been able to get through the Camp boundaries if you weren't a demigod. And demigods are the children of gods and mortals."

"So you're saying I'm half god."

"What about my earlier statement wasn't clear, dumbass?"

"About half of it, oh-wise-one."

The daughter of Athena sighed. "OK, what do you know about Greek Mythology?"

The green-eyed boy shrugged. "A little bit, I guess. Twelve main gods, the head honcho is Zeus, and Kronos ate his own kids."

The resounding sound of Annabeth's palm meeting her forehead was loud, and possibly extremely painful. "Alright, and what did the gods do most of all?"

"...Interact with humans?"

She wanted to scream - it was like pulling teeth. "Yeah. Demigods are the result of a meeting of gods and mortals. I'm a child of Athena."

Percy furrowed his brow. "Isn't Athena a virgin goddess? How can she have kids if she's supposed to be an eternal virgin?"

"Children of Athena are children of thought. We're born from a meeting of minds."

The demigod was confused. "So...do you still have a belly button, then?"

Like pulling goddamn teeth, she swore. Like pulling teeth.

* * *

 **a/n two: well, it's short, and i'm sorry. exposition is like pulling teeth, sadly. thank you to all who reviewed/favorited/followed! you guys make my day!**

 **leave a review, and tell me what you thought~**

 **aishiteru,**

 **ren**


	3. Chapter 3

**carry on, wayward son**

 **part one (innocence) : chapter three**

* * *

Percy had three words to describe Annabeth Chase.

What. A. Bitch.

He hadn't really run into her much after she had shoved him into the wooden "Hermes" cabin, then left him to rot. Looked at him like he was either some puppet that would dance to her every whim, or gum underneath her shoes. Like all those social workers. Like all the kids in every goddamn school they'd stuck him in.

He hated her. A lot.

He also hated that burly girl named Clarisse who'd tried to shove his head in the girl's bathroom's toilet. She'd gotten a mouthful of toilet water in retaliation, so yeah, in her fucking face, that bitch.

Percy rubbed his face. Gods, he just wanted to get some sleep.

Leaning against the wooden walls of the Hermes cabin, the demigod finally fell asleep, weak moonlight bleeding through the windows, and casting a weary halo around his sleeping features.

* * *

"So, you're new around here?"

Twin blobs peered into Percy's blurry vision, as the sun bled through the glass windows of the Hermes cabin.

"What the fuck?" Percy shot up, headbutting one of blobs, sending it onto the floor, before pinning the second blob onto the wooden floor, knee to the small of its back.

"OW, ow, ow, dude, dude, I give, I give! OW!" The blob cried out, clearing into a teenaged boy with elfin features, and chestnut colored curly hair. "Dude, what the fuck!" It yelped, as Percy dug his knee deeper into the blob elf's gut.

"What. The fuck." The demigod ground out, eyes narrowing at the twins _(?)_ in front of him. One was rubbing his head, and the other was wheezing underneath his knee, as Percy continued to press harder into the second one's gut, irritation showing.

"We just wanted to startle you a little! Y'know, wake you up! We're sorry! Just let Travis up, OK? My mom'll kill me if she found out I let my little brother die via knee to the gut!" The first one stammered, hands in the air as a universal sign of peace.

Percy's scowl vanished, and he moved his knee out from Travis' gut. "Sorry." He muttered, crouching down to help him up. "Reflexes."

Warily, Travis took his hand, using his free one to massage his abused abdomen. "It's...alright." He replied, cracking a strained smile. "Connor and I are sorry too, for what it's worth. Just...don't go attacking random dudes in the morning, OK?" Prodding his elder brother in the rib cage, the Stoll brothers took off.

Percy buried his head in his hands. "Wow...way to go, Jackson..." It came out muffled and garbled to anyone listening, as the boy continued to mutter to himself as he pulled on his spare clothing from his backpack - black jeans, a stolen graphic tee-shirt from Hot Topic, and his now blood-spattered Chuck Taylors. Sighing, he attempted to pick off the dried blood from the canvas, but it was no use. Well, Percy supposed that the shoes were kind of getting small.

But still, it was always a huge hassle, stealing shoes. The stores were generally better watched, as opposed to clothing stores, like Hot Topic, and Spencer's. (where most of Percy's clothing was from...)

Bitching and moaning to himself underneath his breath, Percy stood up, fingering the ends of his ink-black hair, which reached almost halfway down his neck currently. Urgh, he would probably have to hack it off with a broken bottle or something. Maybe ask one of the kids wandering around with deadly fucking weapons to lend him one to chop it off with. How did these kids here manage to keep their hair short anyways? Especially the year-round ones.

"Ugh..fuck this. I guess I'll go see where all these campers are going," he muttered, glancing out at the window. Around him, Hermes campers and unclaimed campers bustled around, many checking that all their belongings were in the correct place. Percy saw a few furtive glances cast towards his beat up backpack of shit and things, and glared at aformentioned pickpockets, who backed up a step. No matter what, the unspoken rule of the Hermes cabin was - if you're going to end up going to the infirmary over it, it's not worth trying to steal.

"Hey, Hermes cabin! Line up, we're going to breakfast!" One of the twins from earlier that morning yelled over the hustle and bustle. A collective sigh seemed to ripple throughout the crowd, and kids began to shove and push for a spot in line. Percy skirted around what looked like a blossoming fistfight, and stood in the front of the line. As he was watching with Travis and Connor, the rowdy atmosphere calmed about a thimble, and the demigod turned to the still wary twins.

"Look. I'm sorry about this morning. I...kind of overreacted," Percy said, keeping his eyes on his bloodstained sneakers, scuffing the wooden floor like a chastised child.

Travis and Connor seemed to share a look, before Travis clapped a hand onto Percy's shoulder, and the other boy tensed, his entire body going taut. "It's OK, dude. Demigods go through some pretty rough shit - uh - stuff - throughout the period of time they spend before they get to camp. Just ask Annabeth. She was on the run for nearly two years with Thalia, and...and...our old cabin counselor. So, Connor and I obviously did not think our...ugh...stuff through." Percy looked questioningly at him - Travis just shrugged, and Connor seemed to smirk slightly. "We try to refrain from cursing at camp. There are little kids here, so it's kind of not a good idea to teach them less-than appropriate words, seeing as most young campers tend to go home after the summer's over."

Percy's eyes widened impossibly as the full implications of what Travis was suggesting hit him. "Oh...fuck no!" He swore, running his fingers through his dark hair. "Oh _no._ "

Connor spoke up, a smirk plastered firmly across his face.

"Fuck _yes_."

* * *

Annabeth looked up from her paperback novel, over at the Hermes table, where Percy Jackson sat, poking at his eggs with a finger, looking absolutely bored.

"Hey, Annabeth," A chipper voice called, and someone sat themselves down next to her.

"Hey Will," she replied easily. "How's it going today?"

The son of Apollo sighed wearily, and smushed his face against the cool, gray marble of her cabin's table. "Travis and Connor had to take another batch of unclaimed kids back to the infirmary to be healed this morning. Ugh, Annabeth, I've been up since one in the morning. We've got to do something about all those kids who aren't claimed by their parents."

Annabeth sighed in tandem with Will, and shoveled a bit of ketchup-slathered hash browns into her mouth. "Well," she said, swallowing, "we could always try to get a quest."

Will shook his head. "Enough, with the quest thing Annabeth. Frankly, it's unhealthy. What will getting a quest do?" He held a hand up to silence the other blonde. "Let me tell you. Absolutely. Fucking. _Nothing._ "

"Will!" Annabeth whisper-shouted, looking pointedly at the youngest Athena child, Sebastian, who was only four - and seated across from her and Will. "Sebastian is right there, stupid. Also, if you want to get on the topic of obsessions, let's talk about your lusting after Malcom's ass." She stated matter of factly, silencing herself with another mouthful of hash brown.

The sunny teen flushed dark crimson, and glared at Annabeth. "Annabeth, shut up, please."

She shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about, Will. Eat your scrambled eggs."

The son of Apollo groaned, and pressed his face flush against the cool, gray marble of the Athena cabin table once more, much to little Sebastian's innate delight.

Will groaned.

* * *

 **and then the end**

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 **just kidding, hehe!**

 **hey guys, did you miss me? i'm sorry, i was away at camp, and i didn't have any time to write - but i missed you guys so much! and yes, will x malcom might become a ship, sue me. i'm all for nico finding happiness in his own sexuality, but the thing with will just seems like a rebound to me. it takes more than a pep talk, no matter how emotional it may be, to get over a guy you've been lusting/chasing/went gay for, much less fall for an entirely new one. hellloooo rick.**

 **anyways, ah, so, i've decided to get my shit together, and make an update schedule, and a new policy for you guys.**

 **carry on wayward son will be updated every two weeks, on sundays.**

 **if you read my other ongoing story, "always and forever, one and the same," that story has no real update schedule set yet, but it might have to go under editing, and rewriting, because frankly, it's run away from me...ugh...i can't get a hand on that plot anymore.**

 **but, after those two stories are completed, i**

 **will be leaving fan fiction.**

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 **just kidding! hehe, did i scare anyone? sorry, i'm in a relatively good mood, i guess.**

 **after these two stories are complete, or discontinued, or whatever might happen to always and forever, but i doubt that carry on will be abandoned. i won't be posting any stories until the story is complete. i'll then post a chapter every week. it'll give my readers - you lovely people something to base on, and hopefully, give new readers time to catch up. so yeah, when that time comes, i'll be posting a poll online for that, and you guys can vote as to which one will be posted first. i currently have three lined up, a next gen harry potter fic, named "something like fate," a fire emblem awakening fic set in modern times (it's a great game please play it oh god i am obsessed) called "of shepherds and sheep," and lastly, a gender bend percy jackson fic named "alternate bonds"**

 **so, until next time lovelies,**

 **ren**


End file.
